The Dairy of Maia Nanethiel

[Zoberraz]

The book has a modest leather binding, though the backing and its width of wood pulp-derived paper sheets inside are of a relatively good quality. Stored typically in an expensive sheath of sealskin, it is usually carried on Maia. Flipping the cover open shows the first page, which has the distinctive curving flowing runes of the elven written script - espruar.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 1 - "Arrived to Port Avantyr"

Welcome to Sundren, Maia. Or at least, that's what I told myself when I was standing over the docks of Port Avantyr, with apparently no indication that I would leave this valley anytime soon. Considering I just came here to see some scrimshaw and knucklehead sculptures along with take sights of how the North was like, I'm not entirely sure of how to deal with that just yet.

The sea trip was rough - I'm devoutly grateful to Deep Sashelas that apparently, despite spending more than a century in my forested homeland that I wasn't really prone to being seasick, because we had plenty of tossing and rolling on board, not to mention loads of unfortunate events thrown our way.

The ship I was on is the Sea Sword, named so by it's captain - Joseph Hazelwood - because it cut through water with the ease a sharp knife has cutting through flesh. I'm not sure I care for his metaphor very much.

In any case, Captain Hazelwood managed to get us through the rough network of rocks and reefs that makes Sundren so forbidding to sail to - but not without a 'loud' objection from Umberlee - or so he says. I wouldn't call having most of his crew washed overboard a mere 'objection' and I'm surprised he takes it in such a jaded fashion. Once we made it to Port Avantyr, I asked him when he'd make the trip back to Neverwinter and he stammered out how he saw the very face of Umberlee in the water while the storm lashed out and that the only reason we were spared was because he pledged himself to the Bitch Queen.

Splendid. I owe my continued survival to a Fury goddess. Can't say I'm entirely pleased, though I can't complain about my continued survival.

In any case, before setting out, Hazelwood meant to see Clerics of Umberlee and make a donation to their church as confirmation of his pledge to Umberlee. The bad part of that is that between losing a good chunk of his crew, he's also nearly broke, meaning that he can't pay his tribute, and so he's stranded in port.

I normally would have had scoffed at what looked like a sailor's superstition, but then again, I recall how bad the storm had been, even below deck. Ugh. I just wish he'd have begged the favor of some other god, like this Valkur I've just heard of. From what I hear, the Bitch Queen is hard to placate, easily insulted and short of memory on the regard of offerings done to her, but not offenses against her. Talk about a rough patron goddess to have.

So, ultimately, I got off the Sea Sword and started meandering around the docks. It was night, and even my elfsight couldn't make out much of the port town save to where lamps were lit. I wasn't keen on exploring the town just after having arrived and more in the mood to relax, find someplace warm to stay and rest until morning... so I went around and asked for directions.

While doing so, I met a wood elf named Caylen, who's apparently the captain of his own boat; the Invictus Decora - by his claim the finest boat to sail on the Sword Coast. He said he was likely to leave port for a trip south in a few days - and I thought that might be perfect for me seeing I ought to be done with this place in a couple of days myself - but then he mentioned that it was time he could kill drinking booze and wenching. that, and his leer, pretty much disuaded me from tagging along when he'd leave. I'm not going to fight off his advances for several weeks - no thanks.

Next person I met was named Ortmar, a dwarf worker over the docks whom oddly enough appeared to follow that sea god Valkur. I suppose if a dwarf finds Valkur good enough to follow - despite their bias with the sea - that this Valkur god must be one of the decent sea gods. After Ortmar made fun of my sea legs and heaving stomach contributing in turning me green (I wasn't seasick and my skin is a far cry from looking green, thanks) he offered to have me run an errand for him, carrying crates and such. I turned him down - maybe I would on the next day - some extra coin couldn't be had if it could be earned in easy oddjobs.

Next person I met was Darge Hemslate, an official custom inspector. He wanted to know where I came from, why I was in Sundren and what possessions I brought along. He didn't seem to know what the Moonwood was, so I summed it up as me coming from Silverymoon, saying I came for adventure (saw him eyeroll there) and showed him the chain mail and sword I carried - family heirlooms - along with a little bit of magic I carried around just in case. That done, he ushered me off, pointing me either to a merchant named Jeremiah for travelling gear and supplies if I needed any and the city hall if I had any further concerns.

Turns out from that point I didn't have to ask around where the nearest inn was - I could see it from there, along with a panel bearing crossed sabers and the name 'The Menacing Mariner'. Fortunately, the interior of the inn was somewhat more welcoming than its name.

Wooden building for the most part, a chatty atmosphere likely kept amiable by the innkeep that loomed behind the bar, a rough eyepatch former mariner I learned was named Tyrsis - and he kept a rat around, one named Ol' Whisky. I asked for a room and only a single one was available, one he was renting for forty gold pieces. Forty! Neverwinter's inns could have someone get a bath, a good meal and a room for five! ...I guess that's what having premium, and all the rooms taken but one, allows a businessman to do... even one with a pet rat displayed in plain sight.

I paid up, obviously. Wanted a bed to rest in, not Sundren's frigid night air and the quiet litany of falling rain upon wooden planks. Ortmar's errand started to look a whole lot more attractive, after that.

I wasn't ready to head for bed, though, so, I tried to strike up conversation with the other patrons of the inn. The barkeep had little rumors to share.

I had a short conversation with a man named Normand Fellwin. He, like me, had no idea why sailors paid Umberlee as much homage as they did and insisted on worshipping her. He apparently came to Port Avantyr expected to pick up a shipment of books, but ended up empty handed when he heard the said shipment sank with the ship bearing it when that ship's captain decided to take a shortcut through the reefs.

Maybe I wasn't giving the Seasword and it's captain enough credit. At least we didn't sink, even if he had to suck up.

Another balding man, calling himself Old Jack, struck up a long conversation with me, apparently quite eager to share all the advice he had to offer on travelling the Sundered Valley (the name of the region, apparently - Sundren is the actual city, not the valley). I'm ashamed to admit that weary as I was, I didn't commit to memory everything he said, but he seemed ecstatic to have a patient, willing audience.

A short, peculiary colored elf made her entry in the inn and sought me ought, naming herself Asliena. I mistook her at first as a priestess of Deep Sashelas - she bore his symbol - but it turned out she was merely a devout follower whom channeled a bit of his energy - whatever that means (because it sounds a lot like what priest empowered by their faith can do). It seems she's actually a sea elf too! One staying on land for extended amounts of time, as odd as it sounds. She made a mention of me visiting the Viridale Forest to meet up with the druids and rangers there - they apparently have a grove and an impressive tree-built outpost.

Maybe. I mean, I'll probably have to venture out if I'm required to earn some coin - I'm a ranger - after all. If my stay turns out being a longer one. I'll seriously consider it. Asliena offered to answer any questions I might have had about the region... but my heart wasn't into it - very tired and all. We parted company on that note and then, I went up to rest.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 2 - "Port Avantyr under daylight"

Morning began with me going to the common room and ordering breakfast (which was, predictably enough, overpriced). I asked the innkeep if he knew about any work being available for a traveler like me and he proposed that I courier a letter for him to the city hall - apparently a complaint about how the liquor license cost was going up again. Said there'd be stags for the delivery.

The things that struck me the most about Port Avantyr when I saw it under the light of day was how all the paths the town had were paved, and how many well-equipped Sundarian soldiers were around. It made one thing really clear: Sundren was a city with a sizeable treasury if it could tend to one of its ports to such an extent.

Perhaps that's why there's a significant price inflation. Not to mention the Sundarian coin, the 'stag' as they call it, seems to have a purer gold content than the Neverwinter-minted coin I have - imagine that.

Anyhow, before making that letter delivery, I wanted to meet back with yesterday's dwarf and see about that errand he wanted done. It was late then, so, perhaps it wasn't taken care of yet - that's what I was thinking. While looking, I met up with a guy named Jeff Bread whom, once introductions were done, seemed to derive great fun from calling me a greenhorn, bragged about how he was the best merchandise offloader for three years straight (they have competitions like that, with loading corn? And there I was thinking humans didn't have a whole lot of time). When I asked about Ortmar, I was directed to the other side of a small hillof crates, where the dwarf was working.

He seemed pleased enough that I had reconsidered. Ortmar's errand was for me to carry a crate of exotic costumes to Jula, a woman whom was supposed to be next to the fountain. Saw her easily enough once I started heading north from the docks, right next to a fountain that had a big boulder with some human monk standing atop it with a dignified pose. This Jula seemed extremely pleased to get her costumes - that's an understatement - and confided to me how long it took for those to get there in the first place. Next thing I know, the woman is begging off a favor from me and asking me to go back to see Tyrsis the innkeep and warn him that she would not be able to perform in the evening. Seeing that I was supposedly interested and 'super' enough, she trusted me to the task... though I was only going back after stopping by the city hall.

Port Avantyr's city hall was a sprawling building which opened up into what suspiciously looked like a courtroom. The administrative section beyond was sealed away, but saying I was on an errand to leave a message to the Exarch enabled me to wiggle my way into the office of Exarch Jarius Malifar. Most polite and welcoming Sundarian I've seen so far. He courtuously greeted me, which was a bit of a surprise seeing that he did have a bit of this sailor look to him.

The man was kind enough to indulge me in answering a few questions. One thing that had been nagging the back of my mind was why Sundren had only one port to be accessed when it had such a broad shoreline. The Exarch simply replied that it was a matter of better controlling what went in and out the valley, with a better ability to keep indesirable elements - such as invasions - out. The control of the flow or import and exports was also important to the economic balance of the region.

I next asked about the priests of Umberlee being tolerated in the port town. He replied that the worshippers of Umberlee were tolerated because they granted services and escorts which coud make a ship leave and return safely even through treacherous waters. That, and they are tax payers.

Those were pretty much the questions that came to my mind then, so, I offered the letter, and he promptly threw it away! I was baffled, but he explained that those license fees went to a good cause; namely his own income. Ugh. Okay, he's been nice, so, I'll try not to think of his as corrupt.

I asked if he had additional work for an errand runner like me (heh!) and he asked me to tend a scruffy mariner named Ghelworg whom keeps loitering by the docks even when told not to. Seemed easy enough to do on my way back to Tyrsis, so, I bade farewell to the Exarch and left the city hall.

I quickly found Ghelworg on my way back. Scruffy indeed, and he looked very drunk. His manners, though, were surprisingly soft and quiet. I told him of the Exarch's request, but quickly found out why Ghelworg had prove so uncooperative: the poor man was deaf. That hit a tender spot in me and I offered him a handful of stags so he could buy himself at least a good dinner. That much would have him leave the spot for a while.

To my surprise, though, Ghelworg - perhaps at the sight of my kindness, offered me a romance novel he had borrowed from the Sundren City Library and had me get my map out so he could point me the way to the city.

Sure, why not? I would end up in the city of Sundren sooner or later and could very well do something as simple as return a book. I already saw it as Erevan's luck that he had pointed out the road to reach the city to me - that was already repayment enough for the small favor.

As I lead Ghelworg to the Menacing Mariner, some old fisherman named Jacoby saluted me on the way back, but he was mostly interested in talking about fishing, and I didn't want to delay too much in giving Jula's message to Tyrsis; I could already imagine the former mariner cursing a storm, even more so if he learned that his letter had been discarded right upon delivery.

Tyrsis did not disappoint, and I quickly decided on making myself scarce before he was tempted to take it out on the messenger. I left the inn and the only errand I had left to do was pretty much head to the city of Sundren to return that romance novel and made by way to the port town's north-east exit. As I did so, the sounds of hammer on anvil - an open air forge - drew me into a side alley.

The first person I saw was this... well, he was as close as I could expect a human to look like a toad dressed in expensive clothing. Seeing the fat dumpy person seemed to ooze of so much superiority that he might have been important, I bade him greetings and asked if I could assist him. That fellow, a tax collector going by the name Fiddlesworth, promptly hired me to deliver a debt collection report to a Sergeant Grayham over the Sharahan Hills where this 'Exigo company' kept a camp.

Oh, I was going, probably. Fiddlesworth at least pointed the place out to me and it didn't look too much out of my way to the city... but not before investigating the sounds that lured me into the alley in the first place. Minutes later, I found a forge - though I wasn't sure if this was something I would regret or not. The owner of the Avantyr smithy - a dwarf named Foulbreath - was much too well aptly named for comfort. Politely enduring the reek, I noticed he seemed a bit on edge as I went over his wares and he shared to me that his shipment from Exigo was long overdue.

Foulbreath wanted to go and investigate himself, but he couldn't excuse himself from his work at the smithy so he offered me stags to help him out - a hundred coin, which wasn't all that bad if all there was to it was go meet with his cousin on the way to the city and eventually head back; the trading post he needed me to go wasn't too far off from Sergeant Grayham's camp. The dwarf smith finished by giving me his pendant to prove his cousin that he trusted me with the job.

On that note, I left, having more than enough incentive to leave Port Avanthyr. I took to the road, figuring I'd be alright with the directions given to me.

More later on how that goes!

[Zoberraz]

Entry 3 - "To the Crossroad and back"

The road was clear, obviously well traveled and also well maintained - at least there was a good indication that for all the overpriced merchandise the government was doing something worthwhile of their tax money. I had no trouble finding the path that branched away from the main road to lead toward the Sharahan hills.

Just at the base of the hills was the campsite of the Exigo expedition; a group of hired soldiers, miners and specialists in the field. An armored man by the fire cut a fairly imposing figure and clearly stood out, so I went to him, confirmed he was Sergeant Grayham and gave me the tax reports. Decent pay, all in all.

Companies are in the business of making money, so I resolved to ask him about any work they needed done - in wilder places like these hills, I was certain that they would have a use for someone like me. Grayham seeme pleasantly surprised by the request and explained to me that the Spittlefist goblin tribe was hindering their prospective efforts to mine the hill of some rare metal they call "Sundrite" (Sundrite, like Sundren? Ugh.). Because of that Grayham was charged by the Exigo company to pay up bounties for every right goblin ear brought back to him, and promised an handsome reward for the head of whatever goblin served as chieftain at the time.

I've never had much love for goblins so I was really considering taking up the job - and roving the hills hunting down the destructive critters seemed plenty worth it with the bounty up on them - but I had other errands to run before that so it would have to wait.

I left for the Exigo Trading Post. It wasn't too far from the hills proper and mostly sat by a crossroad, smack at the middle of the map I got and pretty much at the feet of the city of Sundren. Appart from a trading house on a rise, the rest of the trading post was for the most part an assortment of open-air stalls, caravans and the like.

I idly walked around, eyeing the merchants present and finally spotted Foulbreath's cousin... easy, considering he was the only dwarf merchant and one managing a shop offering weapons and armor. After showing him the pendant, the dwarf - Torran Stonecracker - asked me in his gravel-like voice if I had the thousand stags in addition to pay up for the tools; something I had most definitely not been given! (Not to mention I hold serious doubts that Foulbreath would have had trusted a stranger with such a sum)

Luckily, that had only been said in jest, and Stonecracker handed me the smithing materials Foulbreath needed with an admonishment to hurry along, lest Foulbreath come himself and stink up the place royally. Heh.

I would've have loved to actually listen to that, but I was presented with an unforeseen logistical problem. Those smithing tools were really heavy. There was no way I could lug that back to the Avanthyr Smithy without it taking ages, and that's not mentioning the sheer inconvenience of carrying a large encumbering box weighting nearly as much as I do.

Blessed Erevan showed his smile to me, though, and I found a merchant caravan leaving for Port Avanthyr shortly after. Having the box carried in one of the wagons and repaying the favor by escorting the merchants all in all was a much better arrangement that spared me a longer grueling trip... as it was, I made it back to the port at sunset.

My dwarf employer accepted the tools with a grunt, gave me a hundred stags for the job and then went on his work, considering the work done. I self-congratulated myself in not trying to do the job the hard way (the pay wouldn't quite have had made up for it!) and then returned to the Menacing Mariner.

After filling my belly with a cold supper, I turned in for the night.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 4 - "First trip to Sundren City"

After waking up and breakfasting at the Menacing Mariner, I took a little while longer in Port Avanthyr in the hopes of seeing more of the town, eventually finding an overlook from which I had a stunning view of the port town. I sat down for a while and enjoyed that scenery - perhaps longer than I ought to have, basking in warm sunlight and then cooled off by the gentle sea-scented breeze.

I like Port Avanthyr. The place feels like a busy anthive and it might actually qualify as charming if it did not seem so militant (with the hordes of soldiers) or if a Temple of Umberlee did not cast a shadow over it. That impression seems consistent with humankind in general though - full of drive and promise, but always with something dark to stain what merit they have.

I left the port town and followed the main road to Sundren city. Unfortunately, clouds gathered in the sky and I was caught in the rain nearly halfway there. I spent the next couple of hours struggling through a hearty downpour before reaching the sundered valley's namesake city.

The city of Sundren did not make as good an impression on me as Port Avanthyr had. The part that surprised me was how much more cosmopolitant the place was in comparison to the mental picture I had made of it in my head - mostly based on the nearby baronny of Auckney. While the place was certainly larger, the pall of rain, the forbidding gray walls of the city gates along with clusters of camping explorers and refugees gave it a less friendly air.

The Four Tankard Inn was my first stop, where I filled my belly with a warm meal before going sightseeing - I had no intention of letting rain spoil my day. Once inside the city walls, guardsmen became a regular sight - most apparently belonging to some order of Helmites. A militia recruiter braving the rain accosted me, encouraging me to stop by the military district to work for the city's guardforce - something I would look into later.

I looked around the trade district and went shopping for warmer weather gear first off; what I had was good, but not equal to the sundered valley apparently frequently foul weather. After looking around the businesses around and appraising the services the city offered I moved on to the military district; I figured I could look into the militia recruiter's information.

I mistakenly made my way into the Temple Barracks of the Triumvirate at first, though it was a fortunate mishaps upon my part as I found work there. An Ilmateri Templar named Melchior revealed to me that a god-granted vision had alerted him to a threat brought to the Sharahan hills; more specifically animated undead servants of the evil god Bane. He told me that whomever would go and put them to rest would be well compensated by the church.

That got me thinking over what Sergeant Grayham had previously told me, as he suspected that a higher power might have had been behind the resistance the Spittlefist tribe was putting up.

I left the Triumvirate barracks to head for the ones I had intended to go at first - the ones of the city watch - and there met the Master Watchman. Then, things started not making too much sense: he seemed reluctant to hire me due to me not seeming experienced enough to deal with what militiamen deal with on a daily basis.

If so, why do they put a recruiter by the city gates, asking pretty much every passerby that looks like he or she can wear armor and handle a sword to go to the barracks to see about work? Why don't they have training and evaluation programs? This said, the watchman instead proposed that I go deal with other things, as a test to see how competent I was. Namely things in the sewers: they have a big pest problem in the city's Storm Water System (Those are sewers! I'm new, not dumb!). He requested for some evidence of my work there to show I had helped with the problem and that was it.

I want coin - especially the far more valuable 'stags'of the region, but I'm not quite so desperate as to go take a plunge in the 'storm water system'. As if I was really so gullible to believe that every militia recruit and hireling was put on the task of fighting the lizardmen and giant rats that lurked below the city. No thank you - I would prefer doing work for the Exigo company instead; at least they don't take me for an idiot.

My last stop in Sundren city was the library, which was nestled in the Entertainment district. There, i returned Ghelworg's book to the librarian - a Seer Marcus - only to get in return the 'pleasant surprise' (I wish words could properly convey sarcasm) of learning that the book was 3 months overdue and that in turn entailed to a fine of 30 stags. There was no way the scruffy mariner could pay off something like that not to mention the sum was ridiculous - 30 coppers or 30 silvers I might have had taken in stride, but 30 regional gold coins is a fortune for a commoner. I glared at the Seer as I parted with the sum, figuring Ghelworg would definitely need to be cut some slack there.

That said, I intend to spend the night at the Four Lanterns Inn and then leave for the Exigo Trade Post on the morrow to see what work might be done there before I actually go and brave the goblins and banedead of the Sharahan hills.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 5 - "Errand Running"

More rain greeted my arrival at the Exigo Trade Post - I suppose that mention could start getting old... but that's really the point: though it seems to snow seldom in the Sundered Valley despite its proximity to the Icewind Dale, there are frequent downpours of chilly rainwater. That warm weather gear I bought out of a tailoring shop in the city of Sundren likely was one of my better purchases since coming to this valley.

That did not stop merchants to be up and about in their stalls, their businesses open in the tenacious hope of getting customers or simply in the effect of continuing to ply their trades.

I struck up a conversation with a human woman named Vani Thenner. At first, my excuse for ducking under the tarp sheltering her stall from the rain was to take shelter... however, it turned out that Thenner was an herbalist whom peddled mixtures and molds for diverse purpose. We exchanged notes on the local flora - she seemed rather happy to have someone to talk with on that subject - and when the herbalist learned that I was fairly new to Sundren she helpfully told me how I could make my way to one of the Sundarian Legion's border camps sitting at the edge of the forest, from which I could enter the forest. With these directions, I can later go and investigate Asliena's mention of the druid glade and that tree outpost she made mention of.

Another person I met was a man named Perry Reddan. Nicknamed 'the Pious', the man appears in the business of making various holy symbols for people of different faiths. Seeing that his asking price was only 10 stags, I agreed to get one. He asked me about my chosen patron and I was very impressed to see that he was already relatively well versed in regard to the Solonoran faith; he just jumped ahead and asked me which of the three holy symbols common to the followers of Solonor I would choose. The holy symbol of the faith is either an oversized arrowhead at least three inches in length embossed on both faces with Solonor's symbol, a silver medallion embossed with the head of a stag, or three feathers attached to a leather disk hung from a leather cord.

My own choice was the silver medallion embossed with the likeness of a stag. Mister Reddan nodded, pocketed my gold and told me to come in a couple of days and he'd have it done for me.

I finally found a likely employer in the person of Trienna Warren, a self-touted fashionist to the 'rich and powerful'. I couldn't help but point out that the Exigo Trade Post hardly seemed to catter to such distinguished clientele, but the human woman glibly replied that I was right now before her stall.

Okay, right.

Part of a talent in looking for jobs is to look for what is coined as 'the hidden market'. Basically, be observant enough to find work to be done before the employers start looking, so that one gets little competition for getting the job. Miss Warren had a lot of heavy-looking crates and when I pointed that out, she replied that those crates weren't hers and were bound West.

West? I had only a vague idea of what would be west aside from the Viridale Forest. Perhaps Mirakus Post, like the man I met at my first stay over the Menacing Mariner said?

Considering that, I left her company and inquired around for what caravans were passing through the crossroad the Exigo Trade Post was next to and found a caravan master whom was bound west - as I suspected to Mirakus Post. I arranged to be one of his escorts to get there in exchange of some room so I could load up the crates and then returned to Trienna Warren, telling her that if she would hire me I would take care of it.

She promptly agreed to it and let me take up the crates to load them up - apparently most of that were old helmets and hats to be delivers to a tall, supposedly handsome man named Gus (I'll spare the journal the nickname she had to give for him).

It was a slow, steady and uneventful trip to Miraku's Post, crossing the River Elthasar on the way. The place has homes, but also a dreary, martial feel to it. There seemed to be a church and a monastery that seemed of interest along with a tavern at the far end of the town.

Gus was simple enough to find, and turned out to be a spectacle-wearing half-elf. Most pleased to have his goods come in, he not only paid a generous amount but also allowed me a first pick of his merchandise and while I browsed I became fairly certain that he peddled things whom were considerably less shoddy than what Trienna Warren had in her stall.

The evening sky seemed exceptionally clear, so, I decided to go ahead and hike my way back to the Exigo Trade Post, camping under the stars. Being away from the bustle of the cities is good, once in a while, if I can do it without being drenched!

[Zoberraz]

Entry 6 - "More errand running"

It was still early morning when I hiked back to the Exigo Trade Post. I had a bad surprise when I hiked back to see Trienna and report her shipment had been obtained. The woman apparently had a new package just five minutes shy from when I left, containing shoes to deliver to Gus' twin brother, Guy.

(I can't say the parents of those twin half-elves have impressed me with their creativity as far as name giving goes.)

Vaunted elven patience or not, Trienna's air-headedness was rubbing me the wrong way. Feeling the reigns on my temper slipping, I grabbed on the package and left without bothering to go with a caravan this time. Working out a sweat carrying the goods was a better alternative than venting my anger at the 'fashionist'. It was a grueling trip back to Mirokus Post and I arrived there with aching limbs both from the hard pace I had taken and the pains of carrying so unyieldly a package.

I met Guy, though where Gus was dark-haired, Guy had white hair (Twins, Trienna said?). Guy was kind enough to show me his wares after my delivery to him and what he showed was a nice assortment of boots. Most were fairly expensive, though, and with the gold I had on hand, I couldn't really afford purchasing whatever might strike my fancy.

I returned by early afternoon to the Exigo Trade Post and reluctantly returned to Trienna to tell her the second delivery was done, and that thankfully seemed to satisfy her. I lost no time in making myself scarce: if Erevan smiles on me at all, I hope I never had to deal with this woman ever again.

I stopped by Perry Reddan's stall to inquire after the holy symbol he was preparing for me, but he said he'd need a bit more time to work on it, leaving me with not much else to do in the trade post. Luckily for me, the weather had remained relatively clear since the previous evening, so I took a more relaxing stroll around the trade post, just for the sheer pleasure of looking around at the bustle of the place, listening to the merchants talking to one another.

On the side of the trading house, where the Exigo Company sells some of their unique goods as well as pawn off items adventurers find in their travels that may strike the company's interest, I found a pen where there was a hog along with her brood of cute little piglets! I spent nearly half-an-hour chattering and snuffling with them (talking about the rain, of all things) before a spied a rather conspicuous person walk out from the rear exit of the tradehouse.

A Red Wizard of Thay.

Red Wizards. I've heard stories of them, most painting them in a sinister fashion... and yet I've heard of other stories since I've arrived in the Sundren: how their assistance had been invaluable in settling in the Sundered Valley from the first. I've heard of the presence of Thayan enclaves being tolerated in various more mercantile places in Faerun despite the dark reputation of these red-robed arcanists... but it definitely seemed like the Thayans had a much more priviledged place here.

When the red wizard headed in - I suspect he was just stretching his legs and taking in a bit of fresh air seeing the weather was pleasant - I walked after him. If he was in the Trade House, it likely meant he was open to business and I supposed I could at least make polite inquiries as to his services... if only to break the ice and gain a better measure of the Thayans in this valley.

Once in the dimmer lit trade house, the Red Wizard and I did not have too much of a conversation beyond introduction: he was named Minivich and made the passing mention that he was from the Thayan Enclave based in Aquor (not a town I knew of until he mentioned it). After giving me a brief glanced over, he considered be able bodied enough to be 'useful' to him and offered me a job.

I wasn't sure I exactly liked the nomenclature he used (it's not like I looked much the part of an apewoman, after all) but I bade him to move on - I doubted he'd ask for 'services' without expecting me to want compensation (Red Wizards are sadly both sinister and pretty darn smart). What he had in mind was a simple delivery to his Thayan Knight, Toriodor, whom was currently on duty in the Enclave.

Minivich marked the location of Aquor on my map which made things simpler for me, offered pay and admonished me not to open the package; telling me it could be unpleasant. I wasn't going to question that. I was also to give it to no one else than Toriador (Well, obviously).

Package in hand, I lost little time in following his directions and heading up to Aquor. Contrary to the things Trienna had needed me to deliver to Mirokus Post, that package I could carry under the crook of my arm so it was no big trouble.

Upon arrival, Aquor seemed like a quaint little town sitting on the southern edge of the Az'gena lake. It seemed like a rather rich place, but it was oddly quiet as well - I learned from a guard that the place typically served as a cluster of vacation homes for Sundren nobles and the richer merchants in the valley. He also pointed me to the Thayan enclave, whom sat atop a rocky rise.

The Enclave itself was something of a bastion, well guarded, with a gates, magical wards against intrusion that fairly buzzed in my ears and sent vibration-like sensations through me as I crossed their gates - clearly not a place to take lightly. From inside, the place looked equally impressive and opulent; I have to stress the word 'opulence', because most of the rooms in the enclave looked like they could have paid tough competition to the plushest rooms the Sundren Comfort (Sundren city's best inn) could offer.

My search for Toriador was not an easy one. The Thayan Knights were all girded in the same plate armor and face-covering helmet, making hard to even figure out. Most answered my inquiries for Toriodor by unhelpfully ignoring me. It was only once I got to the second floor and had one of the Knights turn a look directly on me at the mention of his name that I figured out where to find him: in front of me.

To confirm my delivery, Toriodor told me that I needed to tell Minivich the passphrase "I am an apple dumpling". I could tell the both of them would make it a joke at my expense. I could also tell they were also perfectly serious about going along with that as well, so I figured I'd just go along with that and let them have their fun. Besides, arguing about the dumb passphrase would just have had me look like an equally dumb peasant in their eyes. No thanks.

When I peeked back out of the Enclave, rain was now drumming on the cobblestone paths of Aquor and with a vengeance. It was late and not feeling up to traveling back to the Trade Post in these circumstances, I began looking for an inn.

Unfortunately, Aquor didn't have much to offer in the way of inn's except for the horridly expensive rooms of the Zulkir's Rest, inside the Thayan enclave. Reluctantly, I parted with the gold and went in one of the rooms on the second level, not expecting to really find much rest thanks to all the magical energies throbbing within the walls of the Enclave.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 7 - "Even more errand running"

The next morning did not offer anything that seemed much in the way of positive. I had a stuffy head from a restless night and the weather had light mist as well as a regular, gentle drizzle at the time of my departure. A dreary day, but with no further reason to remain in Aquor, I left back for the Exigo Trade Post.

I'll skip any lengthy mention of the perks involved in trudging through rain, mists and muddy hours for hours on end and go to the part where I met back with Minivich. As expected, the Red Wizard was thrilled to see myself identify to an apple dumpling, getting a rise from it and then telling me that just that was worth the coin he planned to pay me for the job.

Seeing the circumstances of the trip back, I was not in the best of moods and nearly snapped back "well if so you'll agree to pay me twice the fee" but I held my tongue, figuring that being tolerant of the arrogant Thayan would pay off. That extra patience paid off - once Minivich got over his mirth, he immediately offered me another job: meeting a man named Jermy in Mirokus Post local tavern and supplying him a cypher.

It involved another hike, but I'd have to get it done and over with eventually regardless of what mood I was in... so I once again left for the road, not really bothering to do more than grab a warm meal from the covered campfires of the merchants before leaving for Mirokus Post.

Just like planned, I met with this Jermy person at the bar counter of the Whistling Reeds. Not the most pleasant sort as far as humans go with bloodshot eyes and breath stinking of ale, but once I supplied the cypher he went straight to business and told me he had the things Minivich was interested in, offering me a view of those wares: magical staves.

That explained Minivich's interest in Jermy's wares. The day was waning and dinner cookfires were ablaze in the Whistling Reeds, but because the weather had eased up to only a cloudy sky tinted by a setting sun, I decided to head back to the Exigo Trade Post.

I reached the place long after nightfall and most of the merchants had turned in for the night... but it was better in my mind, as I would be able to take care of the remaining business I had to do in the Trade Post and then move on to my next job. Sergeant Grayham's offered bounty for goblins in the Sharahan hills being what I was looking forward to next.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 8 - "The Sharahan Hills"

Minivich seemed pleased enough by the news I brought him in the morning and paid me for playing messenger. Beyond that he no longer had any work for me, so I prepared to leave.

Seeing me just on the verge of setting out, Perry Reddan called me over while I was securing my pack and enthrusted to me a silver medalion and chain, the silver disk bearing the likeness of a stag, one of Solonor's symbols, as promised. It was an impressive piece of work - I really liked how it was embossed - so I thanked him warmly before donning the medalion and tucking it under my armor.

It was later in the morning that I made it to the Exigo Expedition Camp, which was right at the base of the Sharahan Hills. I went back to Sergeant Grayham to discuss the matter of the bounties and he confirmed to me that he was authorized to reward bounty hunters working at the behest of the Exigo company for up to a hundred goblin ears - more specifically the left ones - along with the head of the chieftain the Spittlefist tribe had appointed.

Grayham had little to say about the possible presence of undead servants of Bane the Ilmateri Melchior had a vision about, though he agreed that it could be tied to the higher power he felt had been backing the goblins.

Seeing that I apparently had come to give Grayham a hand, the people around the campfire warmed up to me and then vied for my attention, thrusting other jobs to me.

A woman named Shala, glad to see a ranger around, asked me if I could not - during my forays in the hills - try to collect scuttlebrush plants as she needed some as reagents for a potion she was working on.

Another very sour woman complained to me that an hag haunted the hieght of the hills along with a small following of goblins and that if someone could conveniently get rid of her, their operations would go that much more smoothly.

Finally, a Prospector Harris asked if I would be willing to do a sidejob for him if or when I would trek inside the Spittlefist caves. He was looking to study on Sundrite: an ore unique to Sundren that had adamantite-like properties along with untapped magical potential. The Sharahan Hills appeared to be the only mining operation going aside from another group named the Veritas in the Schild mountains.

When I agreed to Harris' terms and said I would try to collect samples of the ore, he adviced me to borrow an extra pickaxe from one of the miners to do. Trying to do so had me become the victim of a running joke in that camp; something about the reflexes of giant bladed metal spiders named Slicers that I don't care to elaborate on. With the pickaxe tucked in my things, I made my departure for the hills.

It was not too long before I was ambushed by Spittlefist goblins, a mix of tough close range combatants and either crossbowers or archers. The adventures that lead me to leave the Moonwood had contributed in making me more than equal to the menace they posed and soon my quiver was lighter and my blade wet with their stinking blood.

I prowled the place, thwarting their clumsy ambushes, though it slowly dawned on me that the Spittlefist goblin were a cut above the goblin tribes that infested the eastern reaches of the Moonwood. I spied the Scuttlebrush plants the human woman Shala had bidden me to look for and easily harvested them on the way. As I searched, I heard a commotion and investigated... eventually finding a group of goblin hunters that had cornered a wounded boar.

The boar was no longer in any condition to fight, bearing numerous wounds and simply hunched down in helpless exhaustion. Still, rather than going for the kill, the goblins chattered excitedly in their ugly language as the teasingly, cruelly, poked at its hide with their spears.

Arrows winged and goblins clutched at the feathered shafts once their produced from their throat. Angered by their needless cruelty, I left my hiding place and demonstrated how death was swiftly administered. I approached the poor beast, using what talent for empathy I had to comfort it, assure it I meant it no harm. Clutching my new holy symbol, I prayed to the Forest Hunter to ease the animal's pain and the god answered, sealing the bloody wounds until they were covered up with healthy clotted crusts.

I coaxed him to move once to a more isolated place in the hills where goblins would be less likely to come upon us and then spent the rest of the day nursing him back to health, sharing some of my fare with him - or at least what I had that was palatable to a boar.

[Zoberraz]

Entry 9 - "Muuk the hag"

The next morning found the boar in better health, and restless to find what sustenance my fare had not for him. Once the sun had crested upon the horizon he lumbered away, looked back long and hard at me and then finally trotted off.

I returned to my hunt of the Spittlefist goblins while I explored the rest of the hills. I eventually found enough scuttlebutt plants to be fairly sure that the human woman Shala would be satisfied with my harvest and and my successful hunting quickly began to weight down another bag... the one with the grisly trophies I had so far gathered from the goblins.

Cresting the highest point of the hill, I spied the cavernous entry to the Spittlefists subturranean lair. Unwisely on my part, though, my attempt to gain a better view of the hills to locate the goblin lair skylined me and I quickly came under the attention of another inhabitant of the Sharahan Hills - Muuk the hag and her goblin following.

The hunter had become the hunted - a beginner's mistake, really! The hag pointed a taloned hand at me, screeched an order, and her cohorts charged me. They were too many for me to be able to put them all down with my bow and soon, they threatened to swallow me under their greater numbers. Lacking many other options and badly needing to stall for time, I uttered the words of slumber enchantments and before they had the chance to wound me most were down in the high grasses, taking a dirtnap.

My sword flashed to finish them off, taking advantage of their spell-induced helplessness, but the hag leapt at me over her comatose followers, claws raking the air. Her furious assault came in so hard that I could barely defend myself - rock-hard talon tore through my armor and flesh spreading a sickness that made it a struggle for my to remain upright. I countered as I could, but her flesh in turn felt as hard as teakwood to my leaden-armed slashes.

My reprieve came in the form of the boar I had saved the day before. The wild porcine came crashing in Muuk's back, throwing her off-balance and goring her with gusto in the process. As the hag angrily turned her attention to the animal, she gave me an opening that I lost no time in exploiting, shoving my swordtip into her armpit.

A hiss and a screech later, she was backing away from the both of us, eyeing us malevolently. Such a wound ought to have been fatal to any other humanoid, but the hag's unnatural skin had saved her from my attack. Grievously wounded still, and bereft of most of her followers, she fled my sight. I was content with that much - the hag would not torment the Exigo expedition for some time and I was in no condition to pursue.

After disposing of the goblins whom stirred from their enchanted slumber (my boar 'friend' seemed determined to express how bad an idea that was), I retreated back to the Exigo Expedition Camp to tend to my wounds. The boar did not have it in his mind to part ways with me while I was wounded, though, and stuck to me until the fenced inclination that lead back to the camp. It was peculiar to see such a grateful behavior from such a wild and temperamental animal, but I had little reason to complain.

Had I not saved the boar from goblin cruelty the day before... odds would have had been that Muuk would have had been feasting upon my entrails today.